


Fate

by melitta4ever



Category: Law & Order: SVU, Strike Back
Genre: M/M, Porn With Plot, lost in wilderness AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 17:11:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16022312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melitta4ever/pseuds/melitta4ever
Summary: While working in a fictional South American country, UN lawyer Rafael Barba meets with (very special op) Sergeant Stonebridge. Neither is happy with the circumstances at first.If you're not familiar with Strike Back fandom, just know that Sergeant Stonebridge is a very fine British soldier and the same actor played both him and ADA Stone.





	Fate

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to LarryStylinson7 (Pandinalife07) for betaing.

The trees were tall, wide enough to almost cover the sky, leaving the bottom of the tropical forest open and shaded; not that it helped with the suffocating heat. The very air was wet enough that they might as well be walking through a rain cloud instead of a rainforest. It made everything damp and sticky, especially his Boglioli which wasn't really made for the great outdoors, let alone a hike in tropical forests.

“Just leave the fucking jacket.” British Rambo commented. “ I doubt it's salvable at this point.”

“And whose fault is that?” Rafael snapped; fury wasn't enough to express what he was feeling at the moment.

The guy stopped and turned so suddenly that Rafael almost hit him square in the chest.

“Are you suggesting that I'm responsible of the RPG that hit our heli?” He turned back, but Rafael still heard him grumbling under his breath, “Though I'm the one responsible for saving your ungrateful ass.”

“You sabotaged a peace negotiation that could end the bloodshed plaguing this country for decades.”

It had taken Rafael years to manage to bring the two sides together on the table, agreeing a ceasefire. It was all over now. He doubted there would be another chance for peace in his lifetime. Not when the rebel leader was killed by a government RPG. Now, Rafael was stuck with this hulk who liked to flex his muscles without rhyme or reason.

“For God's sake watch where you're going!” Rambo scolded him, pulling Rafael up from where he had fallen.

“I am not dressed for this environment, okay!” Rafael pulled his arm back from the guy's clasp. His knowledge and experience in international law or human rights was completely useless in here. His abilities had been limited to use his satellite phone to call for help from the UN base. That option had been shot too, literally, when their helicopter had gone down with that cursed RPG.

“I'm sorry.”  The Brit’s tone was sincere. “I know today turned out to be a complete disaster. But I'm gonna take you to safety. Okay?” Hazel eyes focused on Rafael's, demanding trust.

“Okay.” nodded Rafael, exhaling slowly. Holding onto anger was never a good thing. Speaking of holding onto things, he threw his jacket over a branch. “It’s still littering even though worth a thousand dollar, you know.”

“If it makes you feel any better, we left a few million dollar worth of litter burning a mile back.” Rambo laughed, pointing to the smoke still raising from their helicopter.

“It really doesn’t.”

“UN was supposed to stop the negotiations.” His _savior_ said, going back to his fast pace, forcing Rafael to stumble after him. “We had the intel that the rebels were planning to bomb the building. Sacrificing their own leader in order to assassinate the dictator.”

“I wasn’t going to let this chance to peace get lost because of some rumors.” Rafael answered, trying to free his foot from an annoyingly persistent, overgrown vine.  


 

 

Michael had heard about this stubborn-ass lawyer that pushed for the talks.

“Are you the _Barbarossa_?” He asked, pulling the hapless guy's leg from the clutches of a baby boa. He had expected Barbarossa to be taller... and scarier.

“I resent that nickname.” was his snappy response. “He was a bloodthirsty pirate, the very representation of lawlessness and anarchy.”

He walked past Michael, looking so clueless and so helpless under the tropical trees that Michael couldn't help the bout of compassion rising inside him. Not that he would ever let the guy know; his ego was sure much bigger than his size.

“You were willing to die for this negotiation?” He asked, surprised to meet a UN suit with such courage.

Barba sat down on a fallen log, breathing heavily. A hike in a rainforest wasn't really a walk in a park, especially for someone who obviously didn't even do those very often.

“I've seen the effects of the ongoing conflict on this country.” Barba said, eyes focusing on something far away. “Hungry babies, sick children, dying mothers…” his voice trembled very slightly and Michael knew he was remembering specific occasions rather than parroting statistics. “I've been working on Guamodia for five years.” He laughed, bitter and cynical, “That peace negotiation was all that I could show for my work.”

Michael didn't have much comfort to offer to the guy. He knew all about working his ass off for a cause without getting a single result.

“Why did you want the rebel leader so much?” asked Barba, finally crawling out of his personal misery pit. “What did he do that you were willing to sacrifice yourself for a chance to catch him.”

“I needed some information from the guy.”

“No kidding.” Barba scoffed, eyes rolling. “I thought you were going to propose.”

“My partner is missing.” Michael explained, not really expecting a civilian to get the weight behind the word _partner_ , or the guilt losing your brother in arms would cause. “Ribelito might have known a guy who knew a guy who might have Damien.”

“It's El Rebelde.” corrected Barba automatically, his tone flat. “What's the plan now?” He asked after a moment hesitation, and Michael could tell how hard it was for the guy not being on top of things.

“Belize is there,” Michael pointed Northwest. “We'll be there in a week.”

“A week! Jesus Christ! How are we going to survive a week in this wilderness?”

“Hey!” Michael held Barba's shoulders. “This is what I do, okay? I'm not gonna let anything happen to you.”

Barba slapped his neck then showed his bloody palm to Michael, “Other than vampire mosquitos.”

“Other than those.”  


* * *

 

 

“If you die on me, I sure as hell will use your corpse as my toilet bowl.”

“I feel the love.” Michael grunted, mouth completely dry.

“Oh, Jesus! Thank fuck you're awake!”

Michael drank greedily when Barba brought the canteen to his parched lips.

“Enough for now.” Barba pulled the liquid pleasure away and even though Michael knew better, he tried to follow it. No chance. His heavy head fell back to the makeshift pillow.

“I don't wanna clean any more puke if I can help it.” grumbled Barba, but he sounded way too relieved to make his words sting.

“What happened?” Michael asked, trying to recall his memory but only getting dark patches and nightmarish visions.

“It was a spider, I guess. Or some invertebrate.” Barba gestured Michael's back. “I didn't see it. One moment you were walking and the next you started talking gibberish and fell down.”

“How long?”

“Two days.” That explained how scared Barba was. They'd been in the wilderness more than a week by now, and Michael guessed they had at least another week before reaching civilization, contrary to his initial estimation. “You're lucky whatever it was, it tried to bite through your t-shirt. The bite marks were too small, I don't think it managed to inject its full venom.”

Michael's hands found the still sore patch of skin right above his hip bones. Right above where his belt was supposed to be, or elastic of his underwear.

“Barba. Why am I naked?”

“Oh, don't flatter yourself.” He sneered, “It was just easier to keep you clean and cool.” But there was something else Michael sensed with a dread; Barba's voice was clipped. “Please stop trying to give me **that** look. You look less threatening than an angry kitten at the moment.” Barba flicked his hand as if trying to remove Michael's expression. “The venom gave you a hard on.” He said finally.

Michael could tell he was trying to sound nonchalant about it, but his voice came out about an octave higher than usual.

“A hard on?”

“After the first half hour I realized I had to ice it. So, you'll be able to use your precious penis again; you’re welcome.”

Michael had heard about venoms causing extremely long and very painful erections. He shuddered.

“Thank you.” His hand unintentionally found his dick, lying soft and indifferent under the soft t-shirt acting as a cover over his groin.

Barba responded with a _humph_. “And I resent the implication of gays equal to rapist ideology.”

“I didn't even know you were gay.” Michael explained hurriedly, “The suspicion comes with the occupation. Please don't take it personal.”

Barba nodded once. “I didn't…” He stopped, then continued with a soft expression. “Your occupation must suck.”

“Yeah.” Michael tried to sit up and Barba hurried to help.

“For full disclosure, you're out of antihistamines and ice packs the army gave you.” He gestured the military issue first aid bag lying on the forest floor. Michael couldn't tell if Barba was mixing up the military jargon intentionally to annoy him or simply couldn't care less about it. “The water purification tablets are getting really low too.”

Michael didn't realize, but he must have fallen asleep. He opened his eyes to a light breeze of an early evening, barely there but still heavenly in this heat.

“Wanna eat?” Barba handed him a mango, soft and juicy. “Have some berries and bananas too.”

Michael was ravenous. And the fruits were delicious.

“Is Kelly your wife?” asked Barba while slicing a pineapple. “You kept talking to her when your fever peaked. You never mentioned her before, so I gathered she's not from your squad.”

“She was… She died…” He couldn't complete the sentence. It had been a month. Only a month. His hand was still reaching out to his phone to call Kelly during the day. He still found himself planning on how he was going to tell it to Kelly when he faced something amusing. But she was not there. Not anymore.

“I'm sorry for your loss. I shouldn't have…” Barba looked genuinely upset.

“Don't be.” He shrugged. “When Damien got lost, she didn't want me to go after him. I listened to her, but things between us… you know.”

“You resented her for stopping you.” Barba completed.

Michael nodded, he had resented her. The guilt he felt for not being there for his partner... he had dumped all of it on his wife.

“One day, she arranged a lunch date… she was crying…” She had looked so sad that Michael had felt like a grade-A asshole. She had begged for another chance for them. “I hugged her.” He could still feel her petite frame between his arms, the softness of her hair, her scent… “She smiled at me, then--” He had to exhale slowly to gain the control of his voice. “A guy who wanted to hurt me, shot her.”

“That's really fucked up. Why didn't he shoot you?” Barba voiced the question that had been eating Michael's mind since the day.

“I guess I can't hurt if I'm dead?”

  


* * *

  
  


Just the sound coming from the small waterfall was enough to make this tiny patch of opening a piece of paradise. Exotic flowers were covering the perimeter of the little lake; a burst of color around the shimmering, crystal water. And the coolness radiating from it was heavenly on Rafael's sizzling skin. It really was paradise.

“We're taking a break here, Rambo.” He walked faster toward this oasis with a spring in his step. “I just don't care about time frame anymore. I have to take a dip in here.” He added, trying to suppress his fears about hidden dangers lurking under the water; leeches, small alligators, maybe piranhas…

When there wasn't any response from his personal drill sergeant, Rafael turned and found him stripping with a grin on his face. He didn't seem to be bothered by Rafael's presence at all. Military life, Rafael mused. Stonebridge must have been used to dress or undress in the presence of his comrades. Unlike Rafael, who only undressed in front of those whom he'd like to fuck. And considering Rafael had slept mostly with lawyers, no one from that very limited population had been as good looking as Stonebridge. Not even close. Michael's biceps flexed to lift his soggy shirt over his head, and his body arched seductively to rid of the sweat sodden, sticky fabric; delightfully exposing his six -probably eight even, Jesus!- pack abs. And, yes, Rafael had seen the guy naked before. However, at that time he had been more worried about keeping him alive while pondering how ironic it was that a guy strong enough to stand up to against at least a dozen armed soldiers was going to succumb to a tiny bug.

Stonebridge sprinted and jumped into the lake like a little kid; completed with the “Cannonball!” yell. His head rose out of water a moment later, teeth shattering. “It's fucking cold.”

Their hike had been taxing; day in, day out under suffocating humidity and scorching heat. For two weeks! So, Stonebridge's announcement was just the opposite of a warning; it was a promise.

Rafael got rid of his own clothes, but he chose to throw them in the water. If the small current could help with the stench permeated every fiber of his shirt, even a little, he'd take it as a win.

“Christ!” He let out a scream upon entering the lake. It wasn't cold, it was fucking freezing. “How's this even possible.”

Michael stood under there waterfall, his grin large enough to split his face. “I warned you.”

He, then, lifted his head, letting the water wash the weeks old grime away from his face and neck; hands massaging his wet hair. The act wasn't anything other than practical, but when the guy who was doing it was built like an exotic dancer -or a porn star Rafael's brain added unsolicited- even the smallest things could became seductive. And this scene wasn't small -pun really was intended. Rafael should be ashamed of himself, ogling the guy without his permission; but Jesus, the temptation was too much. He managed to pull his gaze away at the end, focusing on the little tadpoles in the water instead. At least the cold water took care of the danger of supporting an erection.

  
  


 

“What are you doing?” Michael asked from where he lay down. They had decided spending a night at the lake, taking a break before delving into, hopefully, the last step of their journey to Belize. The air was much cooler around the lake, the cold mist wafting from the waterfall was a nice contrast to the suffocatingly hot humidity of the rainforest. Barba had declared they deserved a night here and Michael had agreed. For a civilian, the guy had been successfully soldiering through the unwelcoming terrain, even though he managed to complain more than Damien. But now, instead of resting on their makeshift lounge around their little oasis, Barba was cutting tree barks.

“You will see.” was the cryptic answer Barba gave. He was filling whatever oozing from the sliced tree barks into the large yellow fruits he had collected from the ground.

Michael let him be. The peaceful environment  soothingly calmed him, something that had been missing in his life for a long time.

“It's not enough to make you drunk, but we might get a nice buzz.” Barba handed him one of the yellow fruits. “We should celebrate our first bath in two weeks. Cheers!”

The juice was awfully sweet, with a considerable kick from alcohol while the fruit tasted more like a overly ripe banana.

“How did you know about this?” Michael asked, enjoying his experimental fruit cocktail despite the odd taste.

“I've been practically living in this country for the last five years.” Barba explained with a shrug. “One can learn a thing or two.”

  


 

Barba was wrong. It made them, or more accurately it made Barba, drunk.

“It must be this Paleo diet.” The testy lawyer sneered, not slurring the words but Michael could tell how much effort he put in to avoid doing so. "This clean living and exercise must've dropped my tolerance.”

“A lot.” added Michael, couldn't help the snicker. He too felt the effects of alcohol, but nothing more than an equivalent of a few beer. To Barba's credit though, Michael had at least 2 stones on the guy.

“Please!” Barba's eye-roll was almost audible, “You were supposed to let the fruit soak the nectar in to get more from the cocktail, not eat it right away.”

“Says the guy who filled his fruit three more times.” Michael liked his liquor too, just not enough to leave his comfortable seat to carve a tree.

“It's not like I don't enjoy the feeling.” Barba smiled, finally a carefree smile since Michael had met him.

“I… kinda enjoy it too much.” Michael tried to adjust his dick which was awake and pushing toward his zipper very uncomfortably.

The maneuver didn't escape from Barba's eyes. He lifted an eyebrow and responded with a crooked smile. “The fruit might have aphrodisiac properties.”

“You didn't think to mention it beforehand.”

“I didn't think it was serious. I never had a hard on eating oysters before. Have you?”

No, Michael hadn't either. His current problem was probably more due to weeks worth of missing masturbation combined with the relaxation the cocktail brought. If it had been Damien lying next to him, Michael wouldn't have hesitated to take care off his business. With him,  not looking directly at your mate was good enough privacy.

He wasn't sure how, but Barba seemed to deduce his intention.

“I'm trying to be a decent human being, Sergeant, but come on!” He said, exasperated.

“We've seen each other doing worse.” Michael defended himself. Two weeks was not a short time to spend with a single person every hours of a day. Or, maybe the cocktail had affected Michael more than he had initially thought. Still, he let his hand slide in his pants, palming his dick gently.

“ _A la mierda_!” Barba swore, he turned directly at Michael, watching hungrily. “Would you be against a blow job?” He asked; eyes focused on Michael's groin.

“I'm not--”

“I know you're not gay.” He rolled his eyes before concentrating back on where Michael's hand was and for some reason, Michael didn't want to pull his hand out even under all this scrutiny. “I know it's Damien who's gay loving you.”

“What are you talking about?” That was enough shock to remove his hand from his pants.

“Oh, please. Everything you told about him shows how the poor bastard is stupidly in love with you. You just don't wanna see it.”

“He's not gay either.” Michael felt offended for Damien's sake. He didn't realize that he portrayed his mate as a doe-eyed queer who was carrying a torch for him.

“He is for you.” Barba said, sure of himself despite the fact that he had not even met the guy, “But forget about his orientation, for now. Do you want a blow job to take care of that tent pole or not?”

When asked so bluntly, Michael didn't know how to respond. Yes, of course he would like a blow job, who wouldn't?

“It won't turn you gay if that's what you're afraid of.” Barba added, “I've blown enough straight jocks in college to attest that.”

“No, of course not.” Michael felt ashamed of himself for no obvious reason. “It's just… I don't think I can reciprocate.” He had never been with a man nor he had ever wanted to.

Barba readily slid on his knees, “If that's the entirety of your objection, I'd love you to fuck my skull, Soldier.” He said, face flushed pink, but eyes clear. When his tongue peeped out and licked his bottom lip, the decision was made.

Michael got up and slid his pants down; his erection bobbed up; happy to escape its confinement.

“Fuck!” Barba cursed again, “You're fucking beautiful.” The way his eyes hungrily focused on Michael's dick explained what he was referring to.

He licked Michael’s dick, starting from the bottom and ending with a flick of tongue at the very tip. Even in this heat, Barba's mouth felt hot, his breath waking every cell on Michael's skin and leaving Michael hungry for more. Luckily, Barba surged back in without delay; his tongue taking little kitten licks on the top, intermittently slurping and sucking the head. Meanwhile, his hand was moving up and down at the root, fingers playing with Michael's pubes, fingernails gently scratching around. Then, he swallowed him whole in a single move.

“Jesus!” Michael's hips twitched, but he managed to hold himself still. He looked down and saw Barba revel in gagging himself on cock. “Fuck!” He must really love giving head.

“You don't have to stand still. Hold my hair and fuck my face, Sergeant!” Barba ordered from where he kneeled.

“I'm…I don't...” Apparently watching such enthusiastic blow job was enough to leave Michael tongue-tied.

“I know you're a big boy, Soldier.” Barba continued with a lopsided smile, mischievous and promising at the same time. “I can take it.” He added with dancing eyebrows.

“Your fucking mouth.” Michael held on the long, dark hair; strands still wet from the cold mist, sticking to his palms.

“Wouldn't be a lawyer without it.” said Barba and took Michael in again, deep. His nose was pushing into Michael's pelvis while his throat spasming around the tip of his cock.

When Barba swallowed around Michael, he couldn't help but fist the hair between his fingers. Barba hummed appreciatively.

“You do like this, don't you. You fucking love it.” Michael groaned and started pushing in and out slightly. “You love cock, huh, Barba? You love them big, thick… you love gagging on them.”

Barba moaned and the vibration took down the last of Michael's control. His hands covering Barba's head almost completely, he pulled the guy's hair, hard… He pushed Barba's head away, leaving only the tip of his dick inside that hot mouth, then pulled him back in till that arrogant nose was buried in his abs. Barba showed his approval by holding Michael's buttocks and pressing himself even deeper. His tongue was pressing flatly at the base, almost reaching to Michael's balls.

Michael let go of his fears of suffocating the man; Barba was obviously not a newbie on face-fucking. He pushed in and out with urgency, enjoying the eager sounds his partner emitted. Barba's hand found Michael's balls, he massaged them gently in his palms. Then, his finger moved even further back, stopped just before his asshole and pressed.

“Holy fucking Jesus Fuck!” Michael emptied himself in the depths of Barba's throat, trembling with pleasure. He pulled back slowly; carefully watching Barba. The guy's eyes were closed, with a serene look on his face. After visibly swallowing everything deposited in his mouth, he looked up.

If it had been a woman, Michael would have held on her face, gently pulled her up for a kiss. However, he didn't know what to do with a guy. His hand palmed Barba's face, index finger contouring his swollen lips. He pushed it in, and Barba readily accepted; sucked and licked without breaking the eye contact.

“You were amazing.” Michael said after a while, when he could talk.

“That I'm told.” answered Barba then slowly stood up, pushing Michael's hand away. “Don't worry, I'm not expecting anything. I know the drill.”

Michael checked and yes, Barba was sporting a big hard-on. Michael wasn't gay, but he didn't lack basic human decency. He slid behind Barba and reached for his pants.

“I'm not sure how good I'm gonna be at this, but I've done it to myself plenty.” He whispered to his partner's ear, looking down over his shoulder to check if he was doing it right.

Barba nodded his permission, strangely quiet. Michael pulled his cock out, weight, length… everything was different than his own; but the basics shouldn't be too different, especially from this angle… he hoped. When he gave the first stroke, Barba groaned, his head falling back to Michael's chest.

“Do it hard. I'm really close.” He grunted, pushing his hips to Michael's hand. But this was the first time Michael had a penis other than his own in his hand, and he was a little curious -and a lot sated- to hurry things up. He played with the tip, without a foreskin to glide it over, it was different. Barba hissed but didn't do anything to stop him.

“Are you oversensitive?” Michael asked, really curious.

“Just… fuck! Don't be a fucking tease, Sergeant.” He snarled his answer, biting his lips and twirling his hips.

Barba's ass pushed back to Michael momentarily and felt really good even after the way he came minutes ago. He pulled the guy back in, pressing his now flaccid dick to the soft cushions of Barba's arse. His hand moved faster on the guy's dick, hard and almost dry with precome as the only lubricant.

“You'd’ve let me fuck you, wouldn't you?” He whispered Barba's ear. “You'd go down on all four in the dirt, let me fuck you with just saliva to ease the way.”

“Yes, God yes… come on, come on.” Barba begged, hands pushing into Michael's legs, fisting his pants.

Michael nosed down his neck; pressing right under his ear, he let his breath wash over Barba's skin, “You'd grit your teeth and ride it out. Let me stretch you wide open.” He moved his hand even faster, getting his cues from the frantic breathing of his partner. “You'd even let me fuck you without a rubber! You'd let me come in you, fill you up, let you drip over with my--”

Barba came with a whole body shudder. Michael didn't let go of his twitching dick until Barba pushed his hand away.

“Enough. Oh, God!” He pulled his pants up and turned back to Michael. “Thank you.”

Probably it was the oxytocin talking, but Barba looked really beautiful right now; eyes brilliant green under the setting sun, lashes dark with moisture and bitten-red lips. Michael fleetingly wondered how it would feel to kiss him, feel a beard on his own skin.

“You’re very welcome.” He answered instead, “The least I could do.”

“I'm gonna sleep like dead.” answered Barba lying down on their leaf-lounge. “A very happy dead.”

 

* * *

  
  


The crowd was exactly what one should expect from a mayor’s party: high end clothes, fake smiles and jealous glances. Not too different from UN parties that Rafael had had to endure during his tenure there.

“Rafi!” Alex found him with a large grin, “It's been so long, _hermano_.”

Yelina turned toward them, stunning as always in her blue shimmering night gown.

“ _Papi,_ you lost so much weight.” A genuine concern on her face. She then added guiltily, “I really tried to come visit you, Rafi. I'm--”

“You're New York City's First Lady, Mrs Muñoz.” Rafael bent down and kissed her hand. “I can only guess how busy you must be.”

She pushed him back laughing then hugged him like in the old days.

“We were really scared when you disappeared.” She whispered with a slight tremble in her voice.

He hugged her back. “I'm good, Yelina. Good and back.”

“Come.” She said, collecting herself within seconds. “I want you to meet someone.”

“Not again, _querido_.” He complained, but surrendered to her tenacity. Yelina took it on herself to find a husband for Rafael. Since collage.

“Oh, shush!” She scolded him. “He’s a lawyer too. Assistant district attorney.” She said it as if the words meant something sacred. “And he's gorgeous, Rafi.” She whispered with a naughty smile. “I won't forgive you if you dismiss this chance.”

Maybe Rafael should tell Yelina how his bar in gorgeous skyrocketed last month.

“Here. ADA Stone!” She called a group of obvious lawyers and Rafael internally groaned, trying to plaster a fake smile to his face.

  
  


 

“ADA Stone!” Peter heard his name and tried not to reveal how glad it made him to find the excuse to escape this little crowd that had held him captive as soon as he had entered this event. He apologized rather hastily and answered Mrs Muñoz’s call.

“Madam.” He shook her hand, “You're truly enchanting tonight.”

“I know you're saying that only because I saved you from Buchanan's clutches.” Mrs Muñoz gestured to the group Peter had just left.

“That doesn't make my statement less true.” Peter replied, but the man standing next to Mrs Muñoz stole his attention. He was quite openly and rather blatantly staring at Peter. “Can I help you, Sir?”

The guy visibly shook himself before extending his hand. “Rafael Barba.” He introduced himself with a lopsided smile accompanied with brilliant eyes that were glittering mischievously as if trying to cover up naughty thoughts. He shook Peter's hand firmly. He didn't let go though, not right away; lingered just a tad longer than what would be considered as normal. His thumb gently brushed Peter's hand while pulling his hand back, stirring something deep in him. “It's a pleasure, Counselor.” He stretched the word pleasure until it sounded just this side of dirty.

Peter stood speechless for a moment; couldn't believe that a **guy** was -very bluntly- flirting with him, right next to the First Lady of New York. Not that Peter wasn't impressed with his courage.

“I told you about Rafael, Peter.” Mrs Muñoz smiled, apparently very glad of something. “He's the lawyer friend working at United Nations.”

“I'm sorry I was staring,” continued Mr Flirty, his eyes still locked with Peter's. “I thought you were someone else. Maybe, your brother?”

“Don't have--”

“Maybe you saw him playing.” Mrs Muñoz interrupted, “Peter used to play professional baseball.”

“A lawyer and an athlete, I see.” Barba’s eyes moved over his body appreciatively, making Peter sweat in his suit. “Impressive combination, and most exceptional too.”

“You're interested in sports too, I assume.” Peter tried to compliment the guy's obviously good physique, but he was totally out of his element in this very formal party.

“I'm afraid my exercise regimen was completely forced on me for survival purposes. Wasn't voluntary at all.” He replied with a smile reaching all the way to his eyes.

“I'm intrigued.” said Peter, he genuinely was.

“I'd love to tell you all about it over a drink, maybe.” Rafael Barba asked, his intention clear from his tone.

Peter glanced over Mrs Muñoz, trying to come up with something to cover up this awkward situation.

“Don't you worry, Yelina will cover for us. Won't you, _cariño_?” Mr Barba winked at the First Lady who answered with a full body laugh.

“Go, go…” She shooed them. “I'll make up an excuse for Alex.”

Barba took Peter's arm after asking permission with his eyes. “Do you know a good bar around here-- can I call you Peter?”

Peter let himself carried away from the boring event, enjoying the immense willpower of the guy whom he just met. The night suddenly seemed much better and full of surprises. Happy surprises.

The End


End file.
